My Shabbos Beneath Hamas Snipers
My six-hour guarding shift at our base near the gates of Gaza was almost over, following a four-hour emergency standby. Just then, shortly before sundown on Friday afternoon, I got the call from my company commander. “They need someone to help tonight in Gaza. The convoy leaves in 10 minutes. Can you go?”
I had already showered and put on my clean uniform in honor of Shabbos. I was thinking through the Torah idea I planned to share in the base shul that night. But the army was sending crews every evening to improve the security of forward outposts inside Gaza. Every night’s delay in getting the security sensors up there means another day our soldiers’ lives are endangered. So, I grabbed my helmet, borrowed a bulletproof vest, and ran to the mission commander’s warehouse to help load the truck. The commander, a weathered lieutenant colonel who’d been doing this since before I was born, looked me over, pointed to a large box, and barked: “Are you strong enough to lift this?”
I picked up the box – it wasn’t that heavy – and was thus officially accepted for my first active mission in the heart of Gaza, together with two other rookies who, like me, had just joined the army with the Shlav Bet program for older chareidi volunteer soldiers.






